Empty
by Houyoku
Summary: [One-shot] Limstella... the emotionless puppet of Nergal. But.. what is her past? She was the most powerful morph created by him, where does such quintessence come from? This is her tragedy and story of lament, her emptiness.


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Empty

By Becki ^___^

© Fire Emblem

All characters and ideas copyrighted to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems

Once again, another one-shot (and a very long one-shot it is oO; ) ^__^;; I had inspiration for this.. while I was brushing my teeth! Haha, yes ^__^; Anyway, this is one of my tragic stories. I was wondering one day where Nergal got his quintessence to form some of his morphs. Reading the SC's between the characters familiar to Nergal, I thought it'd be fun to write this. I know it's probably not accurate, but it was fun to write anyway ^__^

Oh, and I don't think Limstella and Ephidel were related, but hey, work with me, this is only a fanfic ^~ And yes, Kiyoko-chan, this is _another_ past-Fire emblem fanfic -_-;

Please review if you liked or disliked it ^__^ I was feeling really descriptive/poetic when I wrote this, please bear with me ^^

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A flicker of iridescent orange lifted in the cool breeze. It fluttered towards the snow below, before it burst into a ring of bright flames in a slow dance. The fire rose in a perfect circle, the flames churning and glowing brighter and brighter as they rose upwards. Circling and intensifying with heat and light. The flames quickly faded and swirled into a thin ribbon of fragile smoke, floating up like a soft feather. Only a round puddle remained, the steaming water eating away at the snow.

The hand which had cast the flames lowered, and rested at the cover of a red-bound book. The book was snapped shut, the pages rusting as they compressed against the leather binding. The gentle hands pressed the book close and fondly fingered the layers of parchment.

A smile.

The woman looked up towards the sky, sighing with satisfaction. Her lithe frame was distant along the white fields which whispered the early arrival of winter. She was cloaked lightly, her skin pale but blushed at the cheeks with the cold. She pressed the tome against her chest, remembering the long hours of practicing, reciting and memorizing the incantations.

She had finally mastered the Elfire spell.

Her black hair fell into the hood of her dark cloak, beautiful black hair which shone like a raven's wing. Her eyes glistened as they sought some unknown person along the white blankets, eyes that were a soft brown comparable to a doe's.

She looked back at the puddle of cooling water where she had cast the spell. Similar distorted puddles patched the ground along where she stood, revealing the blunders and mistakes she had made before. But she felt that every line was ready at her lips, every gesture prepared in her arms. 

In sheer bliss, she looked up into the graying heavens. An angular form of flying geese marked skies, flowing along the winds. Their wings were identical in movement, it was like watching a practiced dance, sweeping and long.

"Limstella!" Snapping out of her reverie, she barely flinched but did not turn to see her caller. She continued to watch the formation of the birds and waited for the person to approach. Stumbling along the banks of snow, a young man came up to her. He also held a book in his hand, one of yellow binding and gold letters. She looked at him and saw that he was studying the craters in the snow filled with water with a puzzled look on his elegant features. She paused but was unable to hold back a teasing smile.

"How was your training with the Thunder spell, Ephidel?" She looked at her twin brother, eyes full of dry mockery. He kept his face composed, but he raised an eyebrow. 

"As successful as your training with the Elfire tome." He stated simply, voice light and laid-back. Limstella let a full smile cross her lips. Ephidel shared her dark black hair and brown eyes. His hair which was tied neatly at the base of his neck. His face like hers was collected and pleasing to the eye, observant and light. Limstella brushed the strands of hair away from her face and stared, finding that the arrow of geese were nowhere to be seen.

"I'll soon need to study the Fimbulvetr book, perhaps I'll borrow it from Father."

"Father Sky, Limstella! You're an animal! Was it not just last week you had mastered the Thunder spell?" Ephidel said teasingly, gesturing to his book with a gloved finger upon the cover.

It was not long before completing the Thunder spell had she been interested with the Fire spell. Anima magic above all fascinated her, reading the accounts of Athos a few centuries before in the Scouring. As she touched the book of Elfire, Limstella continued to stare at the sky.

"It was." She said simply, face blank. "But.. I yearn to be stronger." 

There was an unexpected silence, cracked by the wailing breeze and a call of some bird far off. Snow began to fall, like silent feathers dusting the cold air with white. A flake fell on her lip and melted against the warmth. Swarms of white waltzing snowflakes began to flee as the cloud of heated breath escaped her lips. She raised a hand, beckoning the flakes against her palm. They fell against her skin, sending cold rushes through her veins.

"Let's go home." Ephidel said suddenly, turning away as Limstella remained still. "Dinner should be ready. Then we'll go about asking Father for that magic tome." This sounded like a good proposition, so she readily agreed. Turning her heel, she followed her brother down the field through the forest to return home. 

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The twins lived with their family in a town near the border of Etruria and Lycia. A well educated town with a famed library of sorts. As they left the forest to return to their home, the siblings engaged in friendly conversation, a sort of ridicule of the solemn conversations that older adults usually find themselves in. They were carefree as they tried to keep their faces warm, holding the books close to themselves and watching the snow layer the ground with soft clouds of smooth white. The sky was gray, but it was impossible to tell with the amount of snow falling, it was still light outside, but the silence gave the time away as closer to sundown.

Limstella in her head kept the incantation of the Elfire spell. Over and over the words flooded her mind, for she was unwilling to forget them after the laborious hours of rehearsing them. Ephidel seemed to be in good spirits, which was quite contagious.

As soon as they neared their hometown, they knew immediately something was amiss. There were crows crowding the skies as soon as they stepped out of he forest, and figures roamed the skies above. There was a calm among both twins, as they were unsure and uncertain. Limstella felt a cold feeling within her.. somewhere deep. Something that churned with fear and foreshadowing dread. 

As she held the book tight, they both watched the skies as they picked up their pace towards their village. And as they came towards the outskirts, they could hear noises. Shouts of chaos and cries of pain. The sounds of battle, fresh and new to their innocent ears.

Ephidel ruined their moment of surprise and dashed forward.

"We're under attack!" Limstella's eyes narrowed as she followed closely behind, holding her book all the tighter. She could hear the flash of magic and the sharp thrusts of weapons. The young sage knew that bandits roamed anywhere and were nothing but cowards, but there was still fear that she felt. Before her, Ephidel had opened his Thunder spellbook, flipping through the pages as he ran. 

But they came to a quick stop when they found themselves at the edge of the ring of houses, the grand library in full sight ahead. 

Wyverns!

From Bern? How could it be? The alliances of Bern and Etruria had always been strong since the Scouring had begun and ended. In the midst she could see blood splattered along the ground as the screaming did not falter.

And she could see her parents. They lay sprawled at the edge of library's entrance. Shock jumped within Limstella as she clutched her chest, unable to breathe. They lay broken against the cold ground as the falling snow drank up their blood. She saw her father's outstretched hand at the edge of a ripped blue book that she recognized instantly. The shock of this discovery overrode her grief, and she could not cry. Ephidel saw their bodies as well, and his face was pale.

Blood soaked the ground..

A few of the villagers remained. And one by one they fell to the lances of the wyvern riders. With haste, Ephidel snapped out of the moment of shock and began reciting the Thunder incantation.

Encouraged by Ephidel's movements, Limstella propped open her book silently out of fear and began to prepare as well, picking a target. It was fortunate that Wyvern riders had a poor resistance to magic, their weakness was easily exposed as Ephidel struck his first bolt of thunder. But there were others, other warriors which had attacked. These were not bandits..

Her hands shook against the pages as her lips trembled. Pulling up her thin, white hand, she stretched out her fingers and was ready to cast the spell. This band of rogues would pay dearly. Limstella voiced the incantation broadly and a finger was readily pointed at a mercenary with his giant sword painted with crimson.

The tail of fire released from her hand by a silver crest flew at the ground where the enemy stood. Before the man could react, the wall of flames appeared around him, circling around so they kept him in a fiery cage. There was a terrible shriek as the fire closed in on him, the intense heat scalding his skin and burning at his face. 

Limstella winced and turned her head aside, her hair fluttering in the breeze. The book of Elfire in her hands which had been open erupted into flames as she held it. Her eyes followed it in shock as the last page was engulfed. She was weaponless. The tome had exceeded its uses, for she had practiced with the same book for the past week.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ephidel down another Wyvern rider. Few of the enemy remained, most she had guessed were killed by the villagers.. But as she quickly sent another gaze around the area, she saw that only she and her brother remained of the townspeople.

She felt tired suddenly. She wanted to pass out, leave this scene of killing and blood. Everything beyond her eyes was blurring and hazy. Her hand groped around for nothing, the book was gone. She wanted to do something, but she was just.. so.. tired....

"Limstella!" Her eyes snapped open as she heard her brother cry out her name. And then with a violent shove, she saw his face just over hers as he pushed her backwards. Warmth seeped through her clothes. She saw the shine of an axe pass behind Ephidel's head.

Ephidel's face froze, and his brow was contorted with pain. And he fell.

Limstella stumbled back and caught her brother by the shoulders. The warrior who had attacked stepped back, his large axe dripping... with.. Ephidel's blood..

"Oh, dear Elimine..." Limstella gasped, her twin's limp body in her arms, and together they hit the ground. "Dear Elimine, no!" A large gaping wound torn through his cloak, covered with thick, dark blood. Her eyes flashed the image of her parent's bodies next to each other, broken and lifeless. 

But Ephidel still had the fire of life barely flickering in him. He coughed and blood splattered against her cloak. With trembling hands, Limstella tried to lift his head as she got to her knees. "Ephidel!" She shrieked, tears stinging her eyes.

Her brother only gave her a soft look of honest clarity with his eyes, a somber look which betrayed his concern. He lifted his hands, faltering hands with the yellow book he held. She took it, puzzled and pained.

"Limstel---..." That frozen expression and cut off words struck her mind. 

"Ephidel!" Limstella called him again, but with no answer. The scarlet stained Thunder tome still clutched in her hands, she stood and waited. Her face was sallow, a faded colorless hue colder than the snow. 

At that moment she remembered his voice and laughing face just earlier. Full of life and carefree demeanor. The brother she had grown up with and had known as a best friend, the brother she had loved and fought with. 

He was dead.

Her brother was dead.

In sheer agony, Limstella buried her face with her icy hands, her forehead slamming against the book. She wanted everything to stop, in those short minutes, all was gone. Everything she knew was gone. Only death remained.

The sound of a tension in a bow caught her ears in the eternal silence.

Just narrowly moving her head, an arrow whistled and caught her cheek, grazing it narrowly with a stinging stripe. The warrior was all that remained of this group of rogues. His axe was sheathed on his back, but now he held a bow, slipping an arrow from its quiver. Blood fell from her cut, dripping to the ground below. 

This man, who had slain Ephidel. Who was with the enemy who killed her parents. Who destroyed her home.

Slowly standing up, Limstella's face was chalky and sticky with tears. Her eyes narrowed and brows knit with fury. The book was opened by her hands, the stained pages fluttering. All that remained in her mind was revenge. As long as her sanity remained, she would achieve vengeance.

With sharp movement of her hands, she forced her hand up in a gesture different from the Elfire attack. Winding her fingers in an intricate motion a bright symbol appeared by her fingertips, her lips moved silently with the words. 

The warrior did not wait for her to finish. He strung the arrow and pulled it back. A strong release followed, the arrow aimed correctly at her. She released the spell instantly, a second before she felt pain explode up her leg. Her instincts told her to let go of the book and touch the area around her legs, at the arrow which stick out from her flesh. But she did not obey. 

The spell she had cast was targeted well, but barely slowed the opponent. Another arrow came streaking down at her head, but she threw herself to the side, dropping her book. It was hopeless. As she lowered her eyes in defeat, she forced her eyes shut. The anger was still seething, and her grief was still real. Then she remembered that blue book that was beyond the reach of her father's dead hand. That book.. perhaps..

She opened her eyes, only to see another arrow pass her head and strike the wall behind. It was apparent that this warrior was not a seasoned archer. It was either fortunate, or ill-fated.

The arrow in her leg slowed her down as she picked herself back up and leaned against the wall, her hand against the dirty, cold bricks, the fragile skin scraping against the coarse side. She looked over her arm, focusing on the blue book just so far away. The warrior gave up on the arrows, and struggled to unlace his wet axe from his back.

Ignoring the teeth-clenching paroxysm at her legs, she bolted for the book. The arrow sent a deeper pain as she moved, enough to rip a cry from her. Biting her lip savagely, she felt the salty blood on her tongue, coloring her teeth. 

Her hand all in one motion swept down and snatched up the book. Her face was expressionless as her eyes went over the bodies of her kin. The tears which threatened to fall had not yet touched her face or deceived the defenses of her eyes. 

She opened the book.

Completely disregarding that she did had not uttered these words or even seen them, her lips moved unconsciously, the bleeding lips which swore to take down this villain who had slain her family. Even as she saw the bulking figure come down at her with his axe raised, she did not move. She just stood there with her lips moving and hands on the tattered pages. 

A single hand raised, and three orbs formed in the air. Silvery orbs that were thrown into the cold wind, remaining stationary as all three were done forming. Merging into a single figure, the bright designs woven by her fingers gathered, and with a violent backwards pull, the spell was cast.

A shimmering blue aura sparkled with an icy radiance, swirling around the warrior. The man stood still in surprise, looking as a cyclone of cerulean flooded him. And before he could react further, sharp, blue blades of ice forced up from the ground beneath him and he was killed instantly.

Even as the warrior fell dead, Limstella did not move. Her face was like a statue, white and beautiful. Her hand was still outstretched, and the book in her arms wavered. In this moment of despair, she had cast the rare Fimbulvetr spell, without practicing or seeing the words. Out of revenge, she had killed the warrior who had murdered her brother. 

The snow started to fall, and the winds howled in lament.

She collapsed.

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The town was thought to be abandoned. The sun never shone on it, and weary travelers approached it not. During the night, she would sit against the outskirts of the town. The beautiful survivor of a tragic attack out of the lust for power. With a book at her side and a wound gashed across her leg. Day in and night out, she would keep her head down and look at nothing, eat nothing, and she did not sleep. Her despair was too great, the visions haunted her mind, and held her captive. The weather grew warmer drastically, and rain poured down relentlessly to wash away the shed blood. The bodies which still remained in unmarked graves above the earth's surface. 

She lifted her head in the storm. The rain which made her skin look clammy and blue toned. The bright sheen of her hair and distant look in her eyes. Ahead of her was a shard of metal, the shard of a broken sword. 

She looked at it, and paused. Her wet clothes clung to her as she moved a hand forward, resting her chill fingers upon the even colder metal. She lifted it, and it felt light in her hands. 

Slowly moving it, she stopped as it came to a point over her chest. This sharp shard which was a remnant of the disaster. A weapon which had once been part of it would end it all.

Placing it over the pulsing area of her empty heart. There was nothing else to live for.

"A waste that would be." A soft, sleek voice spoke against the storm. In surprise, she looked around for the owner. The voice continued as she stared about. "Your power is great, what would the world gain if you take your life?"

A figure against the curtains of rain beyond the corpses and upturned stones. Her eyes slowly adjusted to define the edges of this silhouette. A skinny man, dressed in dark apparel. She watched him further, the shard of metal still in place over the vital area. His clothes were long black robes, and in his hand he held a purple bound book.

A shaman. 

Her free hand wandered over to the Fimbulvetr tome, prepared to use it if combat were to take place. A dark magic user could easily over power her anima magic, but she no longer cared. If she defeated him, it didn't matter. If he killed her, it didn't matter.

"I do not intend to fight you. Perhaps, perhaps I can even help you." He said with an honest looking grin. His right eye was covered by a navy blue turban that was wrapped around his cranium. Olive green hair poked from under the hem, covering the scars which cut his face. 

"...." She was silent, but did not move an inch. The man seemed friendly enough, but he seemed.. odd in a way. He bowed his head, the scarf of his turban flaring in the wind and rain.

"Forgive my sudden intrusion, I am called Nergal." He introduced himself easily and effortlessly. 

"How could you help _me_? You know nothing of who I am." She said flatly, not giving in quite yet. He raised an eyebrow and answered quickly.

"But I do know much about you. I've been watching you, my dear." The spray of water was constant, and drenched them both. He extended a hand. She hesitated, and did not move. "What is your name?"

"...Limstella." She replied. It did not matter if he knew her name. He smiled kindly and bowed his head again.

"I can return those you love to you. Only if you are willing to pay the price for it." Limstella frowned slightly, shivering in the cold. She had almost nothing to contemplate. What more could she lose..?

She took his hand, and let go of the shard.

"I am willing." 

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"Ephidel!" Limstella stared as she saw the figure draped behind Nergal. The face of her brother, or, at least the likeness of her brother. This young man looked.. different from the twin brother she knew. His hair was like soot, ashen gray and meaningless, tied behind and falling limply beyond his back. His eyes glowed golden with a distant look. He was dressed in complete black, the same attire Nergal was robed in.

And he just stared back, eyes blank and brow raised. But.. it was her brother, she was sure of it. He just seemed.. different. Frightening almost.

Nergal withdrew slightly as he let her examine him closer. Ephidel looked back at her, as if recognizing her withered, slim face. She touched his arm.

"Ephidel?" He did not return the touch, but instead watched her carefully, like a doll. Limstella turned to Nergal, slightly irritated. "What's wrong with him?"

"He remembers almost nothing. He's lucky that he was able to be returned, his quintessence still remained in his body after his death." Came is cool reply. "He will do whatever you ask. But be warned, he is more powerful than he was in his previous life."

"...." She turned and stared back at him. His brown eyes replaced with the sharp gold of the harvest moon, his vibrant black hair dusted to gray. 

"It is your part of the bargain to come to pass, I'm afraid." Nergal said calmly, breaking her thoughts. Limstella turned slowly. She may not have been completely satisfied with her brother's revival, but she was not unthankful for Nergal's work. Ephidel was alive. She was happy for that..

She stood, awaiting Nergal's ritual. The man lifted his large bony hands, prepared to give her the same transformation he had given her twin.

She closed her eyes, unable to see what Nergal would do next. The first thing she felt was the cold slap of darkness against her body. Keeping as still as possible, she waited. 

_All emotions.._ Hatred, anger, sorrow. They all left her, keeping her void of personality or emotion. Instead, it was replaced by power... such great power...

_Memories.._ That axe which had ended Ephidel's life.. the blood which soaked the ground.. the arrow splintering through her leg.. they vanished as they passed against her thoughts.

_Power..._ only power remained.. tremendous power that coursed her veins. Her hair rippled as she felt herself change through Nergal's power. The torchlight flickered and could be seen through her eyelids. 

_Loyalty.._ she would serve he who she owed her life and her brother's, the one she loved most in the world. .... ... her brother..? Who.....

Everything left her. As she let herself go under Nergal's control, she felt his power given to her. An eerie power which replaced her soul, changed her thoughts and memories.. 

But her brother was with her.. she wanted.. to serve.. to serve the person whom she owed it to. She wanted to, it was her greatest desire, and she had it at her grasp. 

But.. she felt empty.

So empty.


End file.
